The Vampire Beside You
by Rocklaarts
Summary: Out of the frying pan into the fire" is the only thing that sum up Jamie's feelings when she comes face to face with the trench coat wearing vampire. What will she do? And what is happening with her brother? David/OC
1. Chapter 3

_Title: The Vampire Beside You_

_Movie: Lost Boys_

_Pairing: David/OC_

_Beta'd: VerballyInsane_

_Rating: T (for now)_

_Summary: "Out of the frying pan into the fire" is the only thing to sum up Jamie's feeling when she comes face to face with the trench coat wearing vampire. What will she do? And what's up with her brother? _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Lost Boys, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Santa Cruz (aka Santa Carla), The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Popeye, and anything else I have not mentioned._

_Please enjoy and thank you for reading. Huge thank you for Verbally Insane for editing this_

"_A woman so lovely and intelligent should not be walking the streets of London without her gentleman," _I read from the speech bubble overhead the drawing of Dracula.

"_Do I know you, sir? Are you acquainted with my husband? Shall I call the police," _read the speech bubble below Mina's face.

"_Husband? I shall bother you no more,"_ said Dracula in one frame and in the next he turned away from Mina, appearing to walk away.

"_Sir, it is I who has been rude. If you are looking...," _uttered Mina, who was reaching out to halt him from departing.

"_Please, permit me to introduce myself. I am Prince Vlad of Szekely,"_ declared the bubble in the next frame, in which Dracula had taken off his top hat and slightly bowed to Mina. I quickly turned the page.

"_A prince, no less?" _said Mina.

"_I am your servant," _said Dracula.

"_Wilhelmina Murray,"_ introduced Mina, holding her small hand out to Dracula, in offering.

"_I am honored, Madame Mina,"_ announced Dracula as he leaned down and kissed her hand.

"_To be continued in Issue 4 of 'The Horror of Dracula' – coming April 1986."_ I read, in disappointment, the big bold words at the bottom of the page.

I frowned, and then let out a small growl in frustration as I jumped off the floral couch, and ran up the wooden staircase. I scampered down the long hallway passed the stolen license plates that adorned the wall, and then halted in front of a door at the very end of the hallway. Hanging from the door was a sign that read: _Keep Out!_

I barged into my older brother's bedroom without a moments thought. The interior was dark. The shutters on the window were closed tight and blocked any light from coming inside. My older brother, Jason, was sprawled out across the carpeted floor, still in the clothes he had worn yesterday. He must have been so toasted that he couldn't even make it to his bed. Thick framed glasses sat askew on his face, and saliva was trickling from the corner of his mouth. The guy was seriously dead to the world.

"Jason. Hey, _Jason_ it's time to wake up. It's four o'clock in the afternoon. Wakeup, _Jason_," I stressed, shaking his shoulder repeatedly, trying to wake him from his slumber.

He merely batted my hand away like he was swatting an annoying fly.

"JASON! WAKE UP!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Jason's bloodshot, yellow eyes opened with a snap; his pupil's just small pricks of black. How weird, his eyes are normally green.

"Wow bro, what did you have and where can I get some?"

"What are you talking about, Jamie?" Jason groaned, as he sat up and rubbed those eerie yellow orbs.

His words were slightly slurred, but what did I expect? He was just getting in as I was getting up, which was around eight this morning. He must have still been drowsy. I pulled him up, and we stumbled towards the adjoining bathroom. I all but dragged his heavy ass inside, and pointed at the mirror above the sink.

"I'm talking about that," I affirmed, gesturing to his reflection.

Jason leaned on the sink for support and looked closely at himself in the mirror. He took his glasses off, dropping them on the green tiled floor, and ran his hand through his dark brown hair.

I remember when we were kids his hair was as red-orange as mine. Since then, his hair had darkened, mine however, is still that same bright color. It really annoys the hell out of me when I'm compared to Molly Ringwald too!

Jason's jaw clenches in anger as he glares at his reflection, a wave of tension traveling throughout his entire body.

"I'm guessing you didn't have a good night with Blondie," I inquire innocently.

About two months ago my brother asked me to help him woo the blonde haired, blue eyed Barbie doll with the sun golden tan. Jason has always been a little shy around girls, actually more like terrified of them. He was a complete geek in high school, and looked down upon by teenage girls that wanted older college guys. That was then, and now the tables are turned. Jason is going to the University of Coastal California, in Santa Carla. Now he is the one chased by the hottest girls in _my_ high school.

Jason is actually dating the "big bitch" on campus, Stephanie Copper, or as I call her, Blondie. Stephanie is the most popular girl in school, and the only reason she and I are "friends" is because of Drama club, and the fact that I don't fall to my knees and kiss the very ground she walks on. In the past we had butted heads, but the tart can't touch me. I have a solid reputation, and a knack for knowing what someone is doing and to whom they are doing it to. Gossip is a fine weapon when it needs to be.

There is, however, a mutual respect between Stephanie and myself. Do I like her as a friend? No. Does she like me as a friend? No. We are neither friends nor enemies. Was I happy that she was dating my older brother? Not one bit. Was my brother happy with her? Sadly, yes. Those were the only reasons I put up with the match, and helped him to get her.

"No, I had a great time last night." he said as a glazed look fell over his eyes, imagining events of the night before. The small sly smile and expression of euphoria on his face said it all.

"You got laid!" I said in absolute shock.

"No I didn't." Jason insisted with a blush.

"Oh, you did." I smirked, "Well, now that I helped you get laid, you have to help me."

"…with what?" He asked with slow caution.

"I'm not asking to do what we pulled on Halloween in the third grade; I just need you to drive me to the Boardwalk. I have a date with a pair of Frogs." I explained, rolling my eyes.

The Frog brothers, Edgar and Alan Frog, are the only friends I hang out with outside of school. I consider them true friends, unlike the vipers at school who make nice one minute and then stab you in the back the next. I mostly annoy the Frog boys at their family's comic shop, since they don't go to the same school as I do.

I met them in the comic shop about nine years ago; I had been eight when I first walked in the store. My parents took my brother and myself to the Boardwalk. And while they were sucking face, Jason and I had wandered off into the comic shop. I instantly set my sights on the brothers, and had stuck to them like glue. They were not pleased as I followed them about on their adventures in and around the Boardwalk. They had said I was a _girl_ and had _cooties_. Ah, times have changed, and I knew for a fact Alan was going steady with some freshman.

The boys were also the ones to introduce me to horror comics like_ Eerie, Famous Monsters of Filmland, Vampirella, House of Mystery, Fear, _and of course the Frog's favorite: _Vampires Everywhere_.I swear those two have given that particular comic to almost every local in town.

Nowadays we don't hang out as much as we did when we were younger; I don't know what happened. Sometime during the end of middle school, they had started distancing themselves from me, and began saying that vampires, do in fact, exist.

I don't believe them, but I don't make fun of them like the other kids do for their vampire beliefs. Now, I only see them when I go to their family's comic shop. It's sad, really. I miss hanging out with them, and talking, sometimes even arguing, with them.

"Going to the Boardwalk, isn't it a school night?" Jason asked, as he splashed cold water on his face.

"Ahhh, no. It's the start of spring break," I answered with a mild, 'duh' tone in my voice.

Sadly, it is true. The Boardwalk will surely be crowded as hell with tourists. Welcome to Santa Carla, the Murder Capital of the World, leave your wallet on the counter and now get fuck out of town.

"Shouldn't you know this? You are a college student." I continued.

"Ours is next week. Okay, listen up, I'll drive you down after a shower, but you have to find your own way back, deal?" Jason said as he started pushing me out of his bathroom.

I have such a good big brother, leaving me to fend off all the rapists and murderers of Santa Carla all on my own; such a _sweet_ big brother.

"Deal," was my answer as he slammed the bathroom door in my face.

I headed out of his bedroom, patting myself on the back.

It was an hour later before we headed into town. I have always loved the Boardwalk, to me it has been a mixture of complete opposites; the old and new, the young and elderly, the rich and poor, and sub– and pop–culture. It had a pulse that was of life itself, but that was not the only pulse that beat within the Boardwalk.

_Fear_.

Fear was the other. From the Giant Dipper, to the side alleyways where drug dealers set up shop and the deep shadows stripped you of every comfort, fear ruled with an iron fist. At the Boardwalk, there is a very thin line between being afraid and being in absolute terror, all of which can be a very powerful aphrodisiac for some people.

The drive to the Boardwalk took about an hour. The sun was already setting and as I predicted, it was a mess of tourists, teens, and pot heads. I said my goodbyes to Jason, got out of the car, and walked a couple of long blocks to the Boardwalk's entrance. The lights were slowly, one by one, coming on and the guy in the Popeye mascot costume was waving goodbye to all the little kiddies and stoners.

I slowly weaved my way through the crowd to the Frog's comic shop doorway. The "_Atlantic Fantasyworld_"sign was dimly lit over the entryway, as I made my way through, Laughing Sal was mechanically cackling her head off, _again_. That robot was really annoying and really scary all at the same time.

The shop had barely anyone inside, except for a couple of tourists and of course the Frog brothers. Alan was standing near the door watching the crowds, dressed in faded, ripped blue jeans and a black muscle shirt. Over that was a wool green, plaid shirt.

"Hey, Alan," I greeted, while passing him by.

He acknowledged me with a nod of his head. Alan was not as big a talker like his brother. To be precise, neither of the Frog's were big talkers. The boy's parents were, as usual, sleeping upright in the corner near the television with thick shades over their eyes.

Edger was behind the counter. As customary, he was wearing a bandana around his head. He wore a ripped grey army jacket with a white shirt underneath. I gave him a small smile as I made my way to the horror section. I browsed through the titles looking for the one I wanted. I could feel Edger's chocolate colored eyes staring at the back of my neck. I looked up giving him another smile as I pulled out "_The Horror of Dracula – Issue 4_".

"Hey, Edger how are you guys doing lately," I inquired of him, placing the comic on the counter.

"We're alive and that's good," he replied, leaning away from me.

There was a slight sneer in his voice; that was a total shutdown, end of conversation, answer. He entered the numbers into the cash register.

"….Oh," I whispered, a little deflated.

This was getting awkward. The same sort of unease I get from talking with either of the Frog brothers, now. Who was I kidding? This was _awkward_ as _hell_.

"Seven bucks," Edger said without delay.

I paid him in silence, swung my little brown backpack over my shoulder and stuffed the comic in it, then proceeded to quietly walk to the exit.

"Well, see you guys, later. Okay," I said turning back, looking form Alan to Edger.

It finally dawned on me, that I was no longer welcome there, as I hastily made my retreat into the crowd of people. When I was far enough away I looked back at the comic shop one last time. I saw something I never thought I would see, there through the shop window, Edger and Alan were arguing. Well, Alan was shouting at Edgar and Edgar had this stone cold look over his face, but it was still an argument.

Sure, when we were little we would argue and get into fights, but it was always the Frog brothers against me; never Alan and me against Edger, or Edger and me against Alan. Edger and Alan were of the same mind on most things, unlike the majority of siblings.

I then headed towards the beach, walking in silence through the crowds with an imaginary rain cloud over my head. I was depressed. I was depressed over the loss of my one friendship with the Frog brothers. They were my only true friends. All my other friends were like Stephanie Copper, friends that were so not really friends. People I socialized with, but never actually talk to.

I'm not trying to be so emotional, but it kind of bum's a person out when they finally realize that their childhood friends are no longer a friend, and that you have no one you can in reality talk to, without holding back.

With a sigh, I took off my sandals and rolled up the legs of my jeans as I sat on the steps that connected the beach to the boardwalk. I didn't really pay attention to anyone around me.

I could smell the salt of the ocean. I could hear the waves crashing on the shore and the roar of motorcycles in the distance. I got up and slowly made my way toward the shoreline and started walking on the beach. The cold waves lapped at my feet and the icy ocean mist hit my face. I really should have been paying attention, but I was too distracted and too depressed to notice that had I gained a following.

"My, my… _damn_, look at that ass," whistled a male voice close behind me.

I turned my head around in the dark, spotting three male figures following close behind me, only a couple of feet away. They were all taller than me, and had more muscle mass than me. Not good.

I could barely see them through the darkness, but I knew they were sizing me up like I was a rib eye steak and they were the only meat eaters at a vegetarian cookout. I would not have minded the attention, but right now I was _so_ not in the mood. Usually, I would flirt then leave them hanging. I could be considered a tease, but that's just who I am. I did not want to lead anyone on now, though. I was alone, it was dark, and there was barely anybody around.

"What's a nice young thing like you doing out here on her own? Must be lonely; why don't me and my friends' keep ya company," jeered a different voice this time.

Okay, it was time to look for an escape. I started walking faster, my heart suddenly in my throat. In the short distance a group of guys huddled around one of the tin barrel fires placed along the beach. No wait; there was a _chick_ with them! I could see the shape of a woman among the four male figures. That was good, _real_ good. They had a woman with them, meaning they were not on the prowl for a piece of tail like the guys following me. There was now a good chance I could get out of this, and get on the 8 o'clock bus.

"I don't think she likes you, Mike," said the third male speaker.

I continue to hurry up the sand dune towards the group.

"Ah, don't be like that, baby. Don't walk so quickly and maybe you'll start to like me," 'Mike' said, when I was only a couple of feet from the group.

Okay Jamie, play it cool, act natural, don't act like too much of a freak, and get your ass out of here and on the freaking bus. Swallowing my pride, I began.

"Hey, guys! Sorry, I'm late," I exclaimed as I reached the group.

I knew they were staring at me like I was some kind of freak. I kept my eyesight resolutely on the tin barrel, because I _knew_ if I looked up at any one of them I would lose my cool. I could already feel the back of my ears burning up, but this farce would totally make those goons leave me alone.

Without really looking, I looped my arm around the closest guy's arm. Then leaned up on trembling toes and kissed his scruffy cheek. I felt his whiskers tickle my sensitive lips.

"Sorry I'm late, baby. I missed you."

"We can't engage them. Not without Anthony's go ahead," the third guy behind me hissed to his friends.

The sudden tension between the two groups was heavy. Did I just land myself into a gang fight? I accidentally tightened my grip on the males arm in response; I looked down at my hand on said arm, as if it was betraying me in some way.

The man was wearing a long black trench coat and his hands were covered in supple leather gloves. He must have been a smoker, because I could smell the odor of tobacco coming off his overcoat. The guys that had followed me were treading away in the sand. I turned my head to watch their backs as they walked back to the shoreline. After that I stared back into the blistering flames of the fire. No one said anything.

"Well, bye then. Thanks, dude. I owe you," I imparted, finally unlinking myself from Mr. Trench Coat and starting to walk away.

Suddenly, a leather gloved hand seized my bare arm and jerked me back. It was like trying to resist steel. I turned my head and look up at Mr. Trench Coat for the first time.

His light blue eyes caught my brown ones, and then something happened that I cannot fully explain. It was like lightning struck me, or the split second before a wave hits a cliff face. A sudden shot of adrenaline coursed through my body, goosebumps running up and down my arms as it suddenly became really, really cold; almost akin to being on a mountain in Antarctica, and not on a beach in California.

The adrenaline was not from a cold panic, I knew this for a fact. For I did not have the sudden urge to run away in terror, it was quite the opposite in truth. My whole body, down to my very core, flooded with warmth.

I wanted to hold this man with the blond hair and frost-blue eyes, and simply never let go. I wanted him to wrap his arms around my body and let me bury my face in his chest. I may have wanted this, but I couldn't act upon it. I could not move for the life of me. I was struck dumb.

It felt like an eternity had passed before we broke eye contact; as it was he who suddenly looked up at something behind me. And I was able to _breathe_ again. He let go of my arm, his fingers softly brushing over my skin in a ghostly caress. I shook my head once, and then twice before rubbing my eyes and the bridge of my nose.

When I looked up, I took notice that the blond's three companions had surrounded me. One of them was right behind me, leaning over my shoulder. He had long blond hair and a look of confusion written all over his face.

They all appeared to be confused, all except for the man with the scruffy jaw and the deep set eyes. His sensual lips were pulled in a smirk that was caught in the light from the fire, but that was not the most striking feature. He had a look of pure hunger on his face, one that scared the hell out of me.

Now, I felt the panic. I looked from the guys that surrounded me to Mr. Trench Coat, without a word I turned around and ran for it, pushing the one that was right behind me aside. I stumbled as I started to run in the slippery sand.

"No, let her go," his words danced along my skin, much like his fingers had.

I shivered uncontrollably at the sound of his voice, and looking back I saw him raising a hand that looked like he was telling them to stand down. I tripped on my feet as I gazed away from him. The sandals that I carried in my hand flew out of them as I caught myself from falling on my face and eating sand.

I picked up the sandal that was right next to me and started to run again. I left the other one behind. At that moment, I really didn't care if I lost it. I ran down the sandy beach towards the Boardwalk, up the stairs and quickly weaved my way through the mass of people.

I made my way to the other side of the Boardwalk where the bus stop was. I never stopped running and I didn't notice who I bumped into. I arrived at the bus stop and jumped on the large vehicle just as it was pulling away. I flashed my bus pass and carried on to the back of the bus. I was breathing very heavy as I sat down. My feet were killing me. And no wonder! As I inspected the bottom of my left foot, I had cut it on a shard of glass.

Leaving a trail of blood in my wake.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you__** lordofthebreakdance, grimgrin, XxAniketosxX, Verbally Insane,**__ and__** Rebecca Jane Cullen**__ for all your great reviews. Sorry, I didn't post sooner, I was trying to swing a beta for this fic. I'm still looking for a beta. I hope to post more frequently._

_Anyway thank you all for reading and please review._

I slammed the front door closed and leaned my back against it, before slowly sliding down on my butt with a painful wince. My muscles sang the agonizing wails of pain; my breathing was short and frequent. My heartbeat pounded thickly through my veins, and played ping-pong between my eardrums.

I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to gather my jumbled thoughts and catch my breath. Little by little my body began to calm down; I slowly sat up and leaned over to look at the cut on the bottom of my left foot. Oh My God, this is so gross! I had people's chewed bubble gum, sticky soda residue, and little candy wrappers sticking on the bottom of my foot. The blood had dried and the cut was already forming a scab over it. I cringed in disgust and let out a long '_ew_'. I don't even want to know how many bubonic plagues I have on my feet. I was lucky, though, for I didn't have to pull out any wooden slivers from the timber planks at the Boardwalk. Trying to pull them out would hurt a lot more than just putting alcohol on the cut.

I tried to stand up, but my wobbly legs gave out, landing on my back with a thud. I rolled onto my stomach and slowly crawled over to the couch and used its arm to lean against. I gasped at the pain and sound of my bones cracking and popping on my way to the stairs.

I walked up the stairs taking them one step a time; slowly make my way to the main bathroom. I shuffle in and closed the door, before sitting down on the edge of the beige colored tub. I turned the cold handle and warm water burst out of the faucet. Casually, I threw my small backpack on the floor and painfully striped out of my clothing.

As soon as I was done scrapping the gunk from the bottom of my feet, I finally relaxed in the water. My mind, however, started to drift into thinking of odd questions. Who was that dude? Who is Mr. Trench-coat? His features were handsome, in that roguish sort of way. He could be considered hot. I could see a lot of girls totally gushing over him. He is truly the bad boy type, all the way from the scruffy facial hair on his face, to his black biker books on his feet. His whole entire _being_ screamed alpha male. If ever he stepped foot into the hall of my high school, he would probably scare the shit out of most of the students, and all of the teachers.

He was not the usual type I was attracted to. The guys I'm usually attracted to are big sweeties, giant goofballs that always have a brilliant smile on their face. I wonder what he would look like when he smiled. Would he brighten up an entire room with his smile? Does he even know how to smile? A smirk _so_ does not count as a smile. I wonder if I will ever see him again, probably not. I have never seen him around town, and he definitely did not have that hippy look about him like most of the locals have. He is probably just passing through. I bet he is in a biker gang. He looked like the type to own a bike. That would explain the leather gloves. I mean, who wears leather glove and all black clothing in hot California beach weather? Well, yeah, it does cool off a little when the sun goes down, but not that much. Not at this time of the year, anyway.

I must have been totally out of reality, because I didn't hear Mom until she barged into the bathroom.

"MOM," I screeched, being shaken out of my thoughts. I crossed my arms trying to hide my breasts. "Can I have some privacy, please?"

"Honey, come on. We're both girls. Plus, you used to run around naked all the time," My mother said as she took in the state of the bathroom. She scooped up my dirty cloths the lay in a puddle on the floor, and laid them in the hamper near the towel rack.

"When I was like three." I said petulantly, sinking a little deeper in the tub.

"Oh, stop it. I'm just getting some Tylenol for my headache," My mother explained, as she opened the medicine cabinet over the sink. She rubbed her temples absently, with her well manicured hands. The 'sea-shell' pink polish had been chipped off on some of the nails.

"Those five year olds finally getting the best of you," I snickered, imagining my mother being tied down by little five year old brats like when Gulliver first meets the Lilliputians.

"No actually, after raising you and Jason, teaching a kindergarten class full of children is like a walk in the park," snorted my mother. She opened the Tylenol and shook it, letting two pills fall into her hand. She brought the two white pills toward her 'tempt-me' pink lips and swallowed them without any water. Taking a moment to relax her muscles, she then spoke again.

"That's much better. Now, how are you feeling?"

"What?" I was again shook out of my thoughts of Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome.

"I asked 'how are you feeling'. There's fresh wet blood on my welcome mat. Either it was you or the Santa Carla hills have a Friday the 13th killer on our hands again," My mother said as she finger-styled her hair in the mirror. She straightens out her shoulder-padded, white dress shirt trying to get the wrinkles out.

"Ah… oh, that must have been me. I have a cut on my foot." I raised my left leg and showed her the bottom of my foot.

"Poor baby, that must hurt, do need help bandaging it," she asked leaning down, inspecting the laceration.

"No–– I can do it." I stated clearly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright, but I get to say I told you so when you get gangrene and your father has to get one of his doctor friends to chop it off your leg at the hospital," Mom said and with that she exited the bathroom.

My parents are normal. They are both native born Californians. My mother grew up in San Francisco, and my dad was born in LA. Why they decided to settle down and raise a family in the murder capital of the world is beyond me. Mom said when she and dad moved to Santa Carla that it was a peaceful seaside town with no crime and very charming locals. That's very hard to believe now. I don't really have big issues with them, like other people my age. Wait, that's a lie. I do have issues with my parents, but they are like very minor. My mom still treats me like I'm five when I'm now seventeen. That's practically an adult, right? Dad is really not around that much because of his job; he usually has the graveyard shift at the hospital. So he is up all night and sleeps all day. I only get to see him for a couple of hours in the late afternoon before he goes to work.

A good thirty minutes later, I pulled the plug, standing up in the tub. The now cold water dripped slowly down my naked body and ever so leisurely into the drain. I grabbed the towel off the rack and quickly dried myself off. My shoulder length red hair is now wild and frizzy, my semi freckled face is now clean of dirt. The little eye shadow that I put on this morning had washed away, and my small hands were now as wrinkly as my grandma's! The peach nail polish that had graced my nails is fading away, and I need to redo them.

I walked out of the main bathroom with only a towel wrapped around me and a brush in my hand. Mom and Jason were already in bed because all the lights were off except for the hall lamp. Treading down the darkened hallway, my mind wonders back to Mr. Trench-coat yet again. Why couldn't I stop thinking about him? He was nothing special, and I will probably never see him again.

Or so I thought.

It is eleven a.m. Friday morning, and I am bored out of my mind. I have been home all week, trying to keep my mind occupied by re-reading all my horror comics, watching "_Murder, She Wrote"_, doing extra credit homework, and repainting my nails over and over again. I did all this to get Mr. Trench-coat out of my head, it is totally ridicules. Running into a random guy and thinking about him the next day is normal, but thinking about him for four straight days is nerve racking. I didn't know which I would do first, tear out my hair or go hunt down that son-of-a-bitch.

I lied on the floral living room couch, staring at nothing. Nothing was actually the ceiling. I was trying to think of nothing, keeping my mind clear of everything. There are no people, there is no world. There is just me and this floral couch. There is no stress. There is no one to disturb me. There is _no_ sexual attraction to a frost-blue eyed stranger.

"_Damn_," I cursed under my breath, while sitting up.

I am so totally lying to myself. With a irritated huff, I ran hands through my hair lifting it off my neck. Grabbing a scrunchy from the coffee table, I twisted it around my hair, putting it into a side ponytail. A bowl full of change and a bunch of old _Time_ magazines lay scattered on the coffee table. A sickly yellow flyer for the up-coming free concerts at the Boardwalk also sat on the coffee table. _'Friday night 9:30pm - main stage-_ _Tim Capello' _was circled in red. I had circled it. Personally, I didn't really care who was playing tonight. I had to get out of the house, and going to this concert was a good enough excuse. With a sigh I leaned back against the couch, and closed my eyes trying and wishing the world away.

The world did go away. I found myself in the land of dreams, a land of dreams where everything was the mirror image of the Boardwalk and the beach. In this dream, it's just me and _him_ on the beach. The dark night sky hung above us. His blond hair gleams in the darkness. Noises and lights came from the Boardwalk, like distant echoes, but no one was there. I know no one is there. The waves crash on the shore and make no sound, but I could smell them. We stood on either side of one of the many fire barrels that lined the beach. His blue eyes ensnare mine from across the fire. He is talking to me and I can hear him speak, but he doesn't make sense. It's like he is speaking a different language. I could feel that he was asking me a very important question.

His eyes are steel and his features harden like he is bracing for the worse possible answer I could ever give him. I felt my quivering lips move and heard myself talk. I answer his question. Also like him, I don't understand what I am really saying. Am I giving him the right answer? His harsh features soften, but there is still a slight edge to them. He stares at me for a while, like he is rethinking his actions on what he is about to do. Then slowly, he moves closer to the fire barrel, and suddenly it looks like someone has poured gasoline on it. With a cry I take a couple steps back from the flames, shielding my eyes with my arm. My eyes tear up from the ash and heat, and I started to cough. Scorching heat radiated from the inferno. The bright orange and yellow flames made it impossible for me to see him from across the barrel.

Looking up, I saw an outstretched leather gloved hand in the fire. The brilliant flames licked at it. I instinctually knew that he wanted me to place my hand in his. He wanted to feel the shape of my small hand betwixt in his own. He wanted to feel my small finger laced with his large ones, and wrap his fingers around my wrist and pull me across the fire to him. Without a doubt, I knew that I… I _wanted_ him to.

Stop!

I shouldn't. Wouldn't I get burned? Wouldn't I get hurt? If the fire was already too hot from where I was standing, then would it not be even hotter if I touched it. Aren't there old sayings that "if you don't want to get burned, then don't play with fire"? But I _wanted_ to play with this. My entire body yearns for something I do not understand, and I can _feel _my pupils dilate in desire. A minute goes by, then another and another. He is still standing there. I can feel him watching me, studying me, waiting for me. The flames have already burned off some of the leather of his glove and parts of the sleeve off his jacket. Can I handle this fire? I hesitated, and then slowly moved my trembling hand through the fire. The flames surround and lick at my hand, until finally reaching his. He closes his fingers around my hand. The fire does not burn; it is as cold as ice. The only warmth I feel comes from his hand, it is like molten lava on my skin.

Jamie.

_Jamie_…

"––amie. Jamie. JAMIE," my mom blurts out suddenly.

"Wha…What," I exclaimed loudly, shaken out of my dream.

Looking up I saw that her light brown brows were knitted together in worry, and her frown lines are more prominent. Her light brown hair looked like she had just taken it out of her usual bun.

"Welcome back to the real world. My, you have been spacing out lately. Every time I look at you, have this look on your face like you're not really all there. You're in some fantasy world," my mother says.

Suddenly a look of shock hits her face, like she has been struck by lightning, and she quickly straightens up. The look of shock slowly, but surely, turned into a sly smile. _Crap_. I _knew_ what she was thinking, because I had that same type of smile on my face whenever I thought of what she was thinking of now.

"No, it is so totally not that," I said with force.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," she says as she crosses her arms below her bust.

The smile only got wider.

"Bull crap!"

"Language." my mom scolds.

"Sorry," I mumble out, while sitting up and looking around me.

It is already dark outside the window. How long was I asleep?

"What time is it?"

"About 7:45," she tells me, looking at the underside of her wrist at her watch's face. That sly smile reappeared from her lips. "I'm going to the hospital to have dinner with your father. Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Yeah––Yes I do. I'm just going to a concert at the Boardwalk. There totally isn't any guy," I said, watching the sly smile reappear on her face.

"Honey, you need to start dating again," my mother pleaded, as she sat beside me on the couch. "It's been more than a year since––"

"Yeah," I cut her off.

"I know it still hurts, but you need to get on with your life. Maybe you feel like I'm pushing you, but I just want to see you happy. I want you to have a happy, normal life," she says as she hugs me around my shoulders. I tensed and the hug didn't last long before she let go and looked up at me. "Jamie."

"Yes, mom."

"Why do you smell like smoke?"

"Huh?"

It was about 9:25 when a mass of people and I piled out of the route seven bus. The Boardwalk was in full swing. The pre-show band was being blasted over the speakers placed above the little shops behind Neptune's Kingdom. It was more crowded tonight then it was on Monday. I kept to the edges of the crowds not really wanting to deal with being trapped behind slow moving people. Isn't it weird that people's faces become ugly when you're alone? Isn't it weirder still, that a person can be alone in a crowd of people? That totally does not make sense.

A mess of people were in front of and around the stage. The pre-show band was alright, a little too pop for my taste. They sounded too electronic, too filtered. They had three people on keyboards, one on bass, and a lead singer. There was no drummer or guitarist, and the crowd did not like it. They hissed and booed, threw beer bottles, popcorn, and soda cans. I sat down near the top of the stairs, buttoning up my loose, light blue jean jacket before stuffing my hands in my pockets. It was getting cold. Fog was slowly coming off the ocean and creeping up the dark beach. Crossing my legs, I leaned back on the step above mine, trying to get comfortable.

The pre-show band finally left the stage much to my and the crowds relief, and a big muscled man with no shirt and a saxophone in his hand took their place. Tim Capello and his band were about to play their first song, when suddenly my world became a whole lot colder. Freezing ice water with crushed ice cubes was dumped onto my lap.

"Hey," I shrieked, shooting up in surprise.

Looking down at myself, I saw the legs of my losses, rolled up pants, were dripping wet!

"_Whoops_," came the insincere completely male voice from behind me.

I whirled around and came face to face with a chest covered in a muscle shirt, trench coat and _leather_.


	3. Chapter 3 this is chapter 3 mess up

_Thank you__** XxAniketosxX, Tinkies, grimgrin, lordofthebreakdance, Verbally Insane, Wynter Nytes, **__and __**angel19872006 **__for all your reviews. Hopefully I will write finish more chapters this summer since I have no school. YAY. _

_Anyway thank you all for reading and please review. If anyone has any questions please feel free to ask._

My water soaked legs shivered almost violently

"What the hell," I yelled over the roar of the crowd cheered and sang along with Tim Capello. I craned my neck up to look at Mr. Trench coat. He held a plastic 'Coke Cola' cup in his right outstretched hand. The cup was turned upside down. A glint of mischievousness shown through those baby-blue eyes.

"My bad," he said with a wide smirk on his face. He drops the plastic cup like a worthless piece of garbage. He pulls a bunch of napkins out of his pocket and reaches for me. He poured that water on me on PURPOSE. "Let me help you with that."

"Oh no, I'm fine the way I am," I said as I took a step back from him. Cold, ocean air hit my bare arms as I took off my jean jacket. I shivered a little before I soaked up some of the water on my jeans with my jacket. After soaking up some of the ice water, I haphazardly tied the arms of the jacket around my waist. I looked back up at the leather clad guy in front of me and glared. "Why the hell did you do that for?"

"Trying to get your attention, really," he stated simply.

"Well, you got it. What do you want, dude," I snorted. I crossed my arms over my breasts and unconsciously rubbed my arms. Goosebumps already graced my arms and cold shivers marched up and down my spine.

"You wouldn't even begin to think of what I want," he said in a low, husky voice. His eyes dilating as he let them roam over my body. He snapped out of it suddenly, seeing the scowl on my face. He quickly reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a sandal, my light brown leather sandal. The same sandal I lost the other night. He held it over my head by its flimsy leather strap. "You left this at the ball last night, Cinderella,"

"Thank you," I huffed grapping at sandal. He pulls it just out of my reach. Making for the sandal that he held above our heads, I tried to grasp it again standing up on my tip-toes. He again pulls it out of my reach. Every time I would try to grab the sandal, he would pull it away. It was not till the fifth try that the smell of tobacco and something else filled my nose. That 'something else' was a musky small with a light kick of spice. Was he wearing cologne? I suddenly notice that his face was dangerously close to mine and my breasts were completely smashed up against his hard chest.

I jumped back, alarmed. I accidently stumble into a couple of head bangers behind me. They yell cruses at me and immediately push me back into Mr. Trenchcoat. He swiftly catches me. Wrapping his arm around my upper back and pulling me into his chest tightly, smashing my nose into in chest. Holding my nose, I look up at his face and I felt my heart stop. The glare he was giving those head bangers behind me was downright scary, like _Friday the 13__th _scary. Those mischievousness baby-blues turned hard as ice and were pricing out from his lowered brow. With my ear to his chest, I could hear the faint rumbles of a growl. He was scaring me. I could not see the head bangers behind me, but they must have backed off because his growling stopped and he move away from me.

"You're welcome," he says with a large Cheshire cat grin on his face as he looked down at me. His sudden mood shift had completely thrown me. He hands me the sandal as I stare up dumbly at him. I had forgotten the sandal altogether. My mind started racing and my heart was not far behind it. I look from his face to the sandal then back to his face again. I rudely snatch it out of his hand and turn on my heels and started quickly weaving my way through the crowd.

"Do you usually walk away from people who have saved you twice," I heard Mr. Trench coat's voice beside me. I looked over to my right and there he was easily keeping with my stride. I jumped a little, putting a little distance from each other's shoulders.

"Save me? From those creeps last night or tonight? I could have taken them both times," I said with mocked confidence. I was lying through my teeth and the way his smirk got wider he knew I was lying through my teeth.

"Right," he chuckle. His chuckles made shivers up and down my already shivering spine.

"I seriously could have taken them on," I said pathetically. Why am I digging myself into a bigger hole?

"So jumping into my arms like a damsel in distress was how you took them on." The laughter in his voice reach his eyes as he look at me beside him. That's it. I stopped walking and gripped him by the collar of his black muscle shirt. I pull him down to my eye level.

"Look, I was not in the mood to fight last night and I bailed and used you and your friends as an escape. I'm sorry I use you guys that way. Thank you for being there. Also, I so did not jump in your arms like some damsel in distress," I say almost spitting in his face. I made sure there was venom in my voice and I made sure I sounded like a bitch to make sure he would stop following me. I saw a slight shock flash over his face, but as soon it was there it vanished and was replace my another look that I've never seen before. One of pent up hunger and rage, but also with laughter. His baby-blue eyes were somehow turning very light green, almost yellowish. Is that a trick of the light? I move in closer to him to inspect his eyes. He pulled away, blinking those yellow-green eyes away and back to his baby-blues. I let go of his collar and push him away. I started walking quickly again leaving him stand there hopefully perplexed.

I weaved in and out of the crowd making damn sure there was no way he could follow me. I ducked in and out of some of the arcades and shops making my way to the south end of the Boardwalk. I stopped for a second next to the old Ferris wheel. I turned around to look behind me. He was nowhere in sight. He lost me. Or was it I lost him? Whatever. That was close. I sat down on one of the many colorful Boardwalk benches. My legs were killing me. What to do? I could get to beach level and walk the beach to get back t…..

"You're going to tire out much too quickly if you keep running away from me like that," a male husky voice said from over my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turn my head and came face to face with my pursuer. His smirk grew wilder at whatever expression I had on my face. "And I don't want that to happen, not just yet."

"What the fuck? Why are you still following me," I yelled over the roar of the crashing waves and screams of the Sea Swings. He jumped over the bench with a grace that only I knew cats could possess. He sat down next to me and I scooted to the over other side of the bench, trying to get as much space between him and me that was possible.

"David," he said catching me off guard, again. He scooted closer to me.

"What?"

"My name is David. And yours," he said taking his leather glove off and holding his right hand out towards me. His hand look rough and there was dirt under his nails. I hesitated for a minute looking from him to his ungloved hand. Finally, I place my hand in his. His hand was as cold as ice.

"Jamie," I said. I knew I had a confused look on my face.

"Jamie," he repeated my name. The way he said my name for the first time made warmth flood my lower belly. "You live around here, Jamie?"

"Yeah, so," I said defensively. I crossed my arms and leaned back on the bench getting confoundable.

"Really, I have never seen you at the Boardwalk," David said casually. I look away from him and started watching the crowd. Calmness washed over me, getting rid of the uneasiness and panic I had for this dude, this 'David'. I felt so mellow that I did not really second guess my sudden mood change.

"I don't really hang out here. I only pop in _Fantasyworld, _sometimes," I hear myself say. I sorta felt like I was on autopilot or something. If I didn't know better, I would say I was drugged.

"Here, catch," I hear David say before I see a crushed pack of _Malboros _fly at me. I caught it with two hands before it hit the ground. I look at the pack a second, studying its shape, then handed it back to him.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't smoke," I say as he slips the pack into his coat pocket. He pulled a match pad from his heavy black jeans pocket. He struck a match and lit the cigarette in silence with a smirk on his face.

We sat in silence, with the screams of people blaring around us. As we sat, I took this time to actual study the man beside me. His blond hair was cut short in front and left long in back in the fashion of the day. Underneath that light scruffy bread, he had a young face. He was no older then Jason. They were probably the same age. The flashy lights of the rides bounced off the rough cut stone of his earring that hung down from his left earlobe. He also wore light leather jacket underneath his trench coat making him look like he was warm. I shivered a little and rapped my arms tighter to around my body. The wind was picking up and it was becoming colder. Just my luck, I'll catch a cold over spring break at the beach. I turn back my attention to the crowd around us. There were a lot of people tonight and the place was jammed pack, but there was no one around our bench. It was like the small area around our bench was cursed or something.

The silence was broken between us by a big, fake sounding yawn from David. I broke out of my trace like state and look to the person beside me. He stretched his arms and leans back, letting his left arm "accidently" rest on my shoulders. My brow line shot up.

"That was such a cliché' move," I say bursting out in giggles. He freezes for a second, then starts to chuckle as he draws me in closer to his body.

"Yes, it was," he said bowing his head down in shame. He looks at me from the corner of his eye as he moves the cig to his lips and breaths it in. His head suddenly shot up, like a dog. He quickly yanks his arm from my shoulder and stands up. With is his back turned toward me he says, "You owe me something."

"I owe you," I say in confusion. He again caught me off guard with his mood swings. I thought for a second remembering something what exactly what I said. "I guess, I do. What do you want?"

"Be at the Merry-go-round an 2 hours after sundown tomorrow," David said quickly and then he was gone. He quickly disappears into the crowd, leaving me in complete confusion. I sat there pondering what just happen and what had happen an hour before. It all was confusing to me. From him being an bad boy asshole by spilling water on me on purpose to my sudden gain of serene calmness to his vanishing act.

I sat there in a daze watching the crowd till I saw something made me do a double take. A new sense of awareness washed over me. I stare as the Stephanie Copper, with her beach blond hair, red high heel shoes and black mini skirt get off the Tsunami ride with a guy. A guy that was totally not my brother. He had black shaggy hair and had his hands all over Copper's boobs. He was tall and had huge muscles, the complete opposite of my bothers boney body. I could see her leaning over and whisper something in his ear. He loops his arm around her waist and squeezes her ass. Gag me with a spoon.

That bitch. That whore. Who the fuck does she think she is to cheat on my brother. No one fucks with my brother accept me. Wait, that came out wrong. I know Jason would never grace the cover of _GQ_, but he wasn't chopped liver neither. That cunt. Why am I not surprise that she would not cheat o Jason. She did this before on Mark Hamilton in the middle of sophomore year and again on Cesar Romero in the start of junior year. Oh, poor Jason, how am I to break this to him?


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you again __**XxAniketosxX, Tinkies, Wynter Nytes**__ for your reviews. They were awesome. Also thank you to__** callandra, xnightxtiger, Edwards-Cullen-bebe501, XOlovelyladybugXO, Cravedkid, **__and __**SunlitMercy**__ for your reviews. Anyway this is a little shorter then the other chapters, but oh well. _

_Thank you again for reading. If you have any question or comment don't hesitate to ask and please review._

Chapter 4____

I counted the many teeny-tiny bumps in the plaster on the ceiling, trying to get some sleep. I wanted sleep. I needed to sleep. I could feel the bags under my eyes. My leg muscles were still a little sore from walking, nearly running, the whole damn length of the Boardwalk. I gave up counting. I tossed to my side then turned to my other side. My light pink bed sheets became entwined with my legs making me feel constricted. I flipped over on my stomach and buried my head underneath my pillow. I heard the faint tick-tocking of my alarm clock from its place on my dresser. I suddenly sat up on to my knees, lifting my pillow over my head and slamming it back down on my mattress in frustration.

Damn her. Damn _Him._

Stephanie Copper was a bitch with a Ralph Lauren handbag. How can that blond bitch trample on my brothers feelings like that? I could still see into my mind's eye the look on Jason's face. It was sad and pathetic, a cross between a bagging kitten and a teary eye look of Bambi deer about to be slaughtered. That was the only time I saw that look on his face. He must have deflated a lot of his pride as a man to ask me to help him. How could I say no to him? This chick had him wrapped around her well-manicure pinkie figure and all she to him were a couple of words. What he said to me was he met the 'girl of his dreams' in the school library. At the time, I didn't know who this chick was. I was imaging a quiet, geeky, bookworm type girl in glasses. The type of girl you bring home to meet the folks and your sister.

I told him to be himself. Cliché' advise, but it works wonders. No person should pretend to be something they're not to make a relationship work. I mean, if the guy your dating is an alien from planet Vulcan wouldn't you like to know. I told him to talk to the girl and have fun flirting because you don't know if the person you're talking to will backstab you later. Live in the moment and the romance.

Weeks went by and Jason was falling more. He changed in those weeks. He was literary walking on sunshine. He was the happiest I ever seen him. I was happy for him. He got self confidence that he never had in high school, being the nerdy guy everyone picked on. Gone were the holey shirts with grease stains from cooking and three-sizes- to-big jean and was replaced by dress shirts and tight, ripped jeans. His still wore his glasses and his hair was still a mess. He got a swagger in his step and a whistle on his lips. He was happy and I was happy for him. Till, I found out that the 'girl of his dreams' was The Stephanie Copper, Miss Queen Bee of Joel Schumacher High School.

Blondie is a bitch and known a two timer. Her first victim was Mark Hamilton. Mark Hamilton was the 'cool dude' on campus in sophomore year. He was fun and charming. Girls wanted to date him, guys wanted to be him. If I didn't have my sight set on Corey at the time, I could have easily dated him. Blondie transfers in from god-knows-where two months into the school year. Popularity wise, she had no hope to climb very high on the food chain. The first thing she did was hook up with the Head bitch's boyfriend, Mark. In just a few short weeks, she took the Queen Bee crown from Jessica Meyer and her boyfriend. Turning Jessica's once perfect image of being little miss perfect into one that belong to a Los Vegas whore. Back then, in the gladiatorial area known as Joel Schumacher High School time were tough and toughs were as viscous as ever. A lot of girl's reps were trashed and lifetimes of images were broken. It was a miracle I survived with my status in check, especially after the incident with Corey.

Life went on and Stephanie got bored with Mark. In the middle of sophomore year, Stephanie had a one night stand with a college frat-boy on a couch in the middle of a party. Mark dumped her ass on the spot. I thought for sure when Mark dumped her, she would lose her crown. When Monday rolled around, Blondie was smelling like a rose and held her statues, while Mark lost all his and he smelled like trash. Now, no girl in the school wants to date him for fear of the wrath of the Bitch Queen.

A lot of mystery and rumors surround Stephanie's next victim, Cesar Romero. The true facts of the case are this; at the start of this school year he and Blondie were dating publicly. Three months in the relationship, I found out Cesar was for a fact cheating on her with a quiet girl named Veronica and Blondie was also cheating on him in turn with another college frat boy. After five months of dating, Cesar Romero was found dead, mauled to death by some kind of dog, under the Boardwalk. There are a lot of rumors that Blondie got a hit on him or that she sicked her man-eating poodle on him, but as I said they are just rumors.

I found out Stephanie was dating Jason the hard way; at school using the grapevine. People were starting to suck up to me more than usually. Stephanie came out and said she had a new college boyfriend that she was going heavy with and that she met at the library. She started talking to me more and asking after my brother. I did the math. 2+2 = Oh God, Jason is dating Stephanie.

I could see why I was mad at Blondie and losing sleep because of her. Why was I losing sleep because of _him_? That David guy. So he pissed me off by dumping water on me. I should not be this mad at him. I shouldn't be mad that he tried flirting with me with fake yawning move or the time he caught me from falling when those head-bangers pushed me. I really didn't mind his arm being there or when I was pressed up against him when he caught me. It felt really nice with that comforting weight on my shoulders. It felt right. It's weird that the mix of _Malboros_ cigs and whatever cologne he uses was comforting to me, made me calm. I regret bursting out with giggles and unnerving him a bit. I would have liked if his arm stayed around my shoulders a little while longer than it did. But why was I mad at him? Wait, was I misreading anger for….sexual frustration? Crap. I really need to clear my head. Something to drink might help.

I haphazardly got out of bed and dragged my pink pajama bottom self to my door. I dragged myself down the hallway. In my half-asleep state I was rudely awaken by noises coming from first floor of the house. I bolted up right and stopped all unnecessary movement. Growls and grunts and a faint ripping noise came from within the kitchen. Did some raccoons brake in again or was it bigger than a raccoon? It sounded bigger than a raccoon. It also sounded meaner than one and raccoons are really mean when they want to be. I slowly inched my way to the hall closet near the stairs. I reached in blindly grapping for my Dad's wooden Louisville Slugger. I didn't close the closet door in fear of creating too much noise. I creped down the stairs with the bat in my hand, gripping it like I would attack my own shadow. I slowly tip-toed my way to the kitchen. I stopped just before turning into the kitchen taking slow breaths to calm my nerves. The lights were off inside the kitchen I quickly turn into the kitchen with the bat high over my head, ready to strike. I turned on the light switch and I came face to face with …

Jason. Not Friday the 13th Jason, like I was expecting. But Jason, my weird older brother who was half naked and hunched over, devouring a raw pot roast. There was cow blood everywhere on the while tiled floor to his hands on his hands, arms, and mouth. There cow flesh under his finger nails and some spattered on the open fridge. He gurgles and grunted as he ripped off chunks of raw meat and ate them. I lowered the bat and I let it hang at my side. I stood there staring at him for a good 3 minutes. He didn't even notice me; his whole focus was on that piece of meat. I slowly walk around him and stood in front of him. All of a sudden He stopped eating the pound of meat and looked at it. He wore a disgusted look on his face and stood up. He dropped the roast onto the floor and without even noticing me made his way to the sink and threw up in it. I placed the baseball bake on the kitchen table in the center of the room and I stood behind him.

"Are you okay," I asked loudly breaking the silence.

"JAMIE," he jumped around and leaned back in the counter. He wore that surprise look on his face like I caught him doing something wrong. The only other time I was that look on his face is when I caught him masturbating for the first time.

"Jason, what are you doing to that pot roast," I asked causally.

"What? Me? Oh….ah…umm….Mom wanted me to seasons it," he lied through his teeth.

"She wanted you to season it with your saliva," I asked him with one eyebrow arched.

"Ah…Yeah. You know, I like to put myself in the cooking," he lied again wiping the blood his hand on his shirt, that he quickly realize that he wasn't wearing any. He dropped his hands and was swiftly walking to the kitchen's entrance.

"Remind me, never to eat anything you cook, Ok," I said as my one eyebrow arched more with each passing second.

"Ok, well, I'm off to take a bath and to clean this mess up. Oh by the way, Stephanie and a couple of my friends are coming over for dinner on Friday. Just giving you a heads up. Goodnight," he jabbered out as he swiftly exited the kitchen. He said it so quickly that I only really heard Blondie's name. What to do about that? Should I tell him about her? I would want the same said to me if I was in Jason's shoes.

"Wait, Jason, can I ask you something," I yelled after him. I caught up to him when he was at the top of the stairs and I was at the bottom.

"Sure, I guess, shoot," He said with a nervous grin on his face. What question would I ask make him this nervous?

"Well, you see, I saw…" I started. Ok Jamie, you can do this. You can tell him. You can break your poor brother's fragile heart.

"What is it," he spat out growing impatient at my stammering.

"Do you love her," I said quickly. Jamie, you are the biggest coward in the world.

"Huh," he said with a very confused look on his face.

"Stephanie! Do you love Stephanie," I said getting frustrated with my own words.

"Well, I guess. I never really thought about it," he said with a daze look on his face and a goofy grin. Oh fuck, he really is in love. Poor Jason. It took him awhile to get that look off his face and give me a serious answer. "I guess I do. I feel this need to be with her. I'm drawn to her, like it's built into me to be around her and protect her. I don't know."

"Alright. That's enough. I get it. Take your bath, 'night," I quickly stammered out all the while looking at my feet and not at Jason.

"'Night," I hear him say before he walked down the hallway on the second floor and into the bath room. I heard the faucet to the tub turn on and the sound of rushing water. I slowly backed away from the stairs and shuffled my feet into the living room. I lean on the back of the couch for a minute then slowly slid down it, crumbling to my knees. I wrapped by arm around my knees. What the fuck am I going to do? Do I tell him? I can't tell him it will break his heart, but wouldn't his heart break when he finds out for himself?


	5. Chapter 5

_Heh Heh…. _ ; Sorry I am late with the updates. I have no excuse. I was just being awful lazy. I really hope this one was worth the wait. Thank you again __**XxAniketosxX**__, __**SunlitMery**__, __**Tinkies**__, and __**XOlovelyladybuXO**__ for the reviews. Also thank you __**Angela-Bennet**__, __**josie1993**__, __**shalmarrose**__, __**Rebecca Jane Cullen**__, __**Sapphireuncovered123**__, and __**wingedraksha**__ for your reviews. Another thank you shout out for __**kida3082 **__for the messg. and ass kick. Oh yeah one more thing to __**josie1993**__ and __**XxAniketosxX **__question/hunch my answer is maybe. Just maybe._

_Anyway thank you so much for reading and please review_

Chapter 5

Saturday morning was dull and boring. Nothing to do but watch the hemp plants grow in the neighbor's yard from outside the kitchen window. I sipped slowly at a large Garfield mug of coffee as I watch those green and heavily leafed plants shoot for the sky. After Jason went to bed, I stayed up. I could feel those heavy bags under my eyes. Dad almost went unnoticed by me as he parked his car in the driveway and then shuffled up the stair to the bedroom he shared with Mom for a good day sleep. I had too much on my mind. Jason though he is in love with Blondie. Blondie may be cheating on him. Is she really cheating on him with the guy I saw with her? If Blondie is cheating on Jason, should I tell him? Would he even want to know if she was? What if he finds out on his own and discovers I knew about it? In this situation, I was damn if I do, damn if I don't. I was in a pickle. I long heavy sign escaped my lips. First thing first, I got to find out if Blondie is really cheating on him. That means I have to call Rachel Eader.

Rachel Eader was part of Blondie's inner circle, not right-hand man, but she was closer to her then me. Rachel Eader was like me in some ways. She was a gossip hound just like me. She survived Blondie's hostel take-over and wound up with higher statues in the end just like me. Unlike me, she liked spreading the dirty dealings of other people. I may use gossip as a weapon, but I usually keep my mouth shut until I need to use it. Rachel liked spreading the gossip around. Talking to her will be a double edge sword and might get me in trouble later. I called her from the phone in the kitchen after Mom and Jason went out at noon. I sat up in my pink pajamas bottoms on the kitchen counter with my little black address book in my hand as I called Rachel. I quickly asked her what was going on between Blondie and my brother.

"I don't know much, other than she is totally crushing on your big brother. Shouldn't you know more about that romance then me," I heard Rachel's high pitched voice asked from over the phone. "Steph has been hanging out with Jason all week. She even canceled the weekly Monday Mall ritual to hang out with him this week."

"Jason has not been bringing her around for tea and cake," I laugh under my breath. Tread carefully, Jamie, there will be danger in what you're going to ask." Rachel, do you think, now this is going to sound insane after what you just told me, that maybe…just maybe… that Stephanie is cheating on Jason?"

"What? No way. That can't happen. You serious," Rachel ask in a higher pitched voice.

"Like a heart attack. I mean look what happen to Hamilton and Romero, she cheated on them. Why would she not cheat on my brother," I quickly said into the phone.

"There no way she would cheat on him. She is totally, completely in love with him," explained Rachel.

"She may be in love, but she can still cheat," I said as I rolled my eyes.

"Wait. She can't be cheating, otherwise we both would have heard about it. She would have boast her unfaithfulness to Mandy and we both know how loose Mandy's lips are." Rachel pointed out. She did have a point. Mandy was Blondie's right-hand man – er, women. Mandy has been at Blondie's beck and call since the first day she transferred in. Mandy could keep her mouth shut, but sometimes she slipped up. Weather she told everyone Blondie's personal secrets on purpose or not was debatable. Rumors had it that Mandy is trying to become top bitch at school and kick Blondie off her throne. She may tell me more about Blondie's affairs. An enemy of my enemy is my friend.

"Maybe she is cheating, maybe she's not. Don't know for sure. I'll talk to Mandy at school on Monday," I said grudgingly, not totally looking forward to it.

"Yeah, you do that. Oh, did you hear about the most heinous breakup between Jessica and Taylor yesterday night at Alice's party," I heard Rachael natter on. Racheal talked my ear off before finally hanging up the phone.

I stood in front of my long mirror the hung on my closet door taking in my clothing. I had some serious doubts on my whole outfit. Did my nice pink tank top with little frills was too much? Should I have chosen to wear more girly shoes then my brown boots that were already on my feet? Would he mind that there was a slight tear in the knee of my blue jeans? Why did it matter to me what David minded at all? I knew I was attracted to that unpredictable asshole, but did I want him to think me attracted? I like being noticed by guys. I like flirty with guys. It was fun and gave me confidence I needed. With David… I just don't know what to do with him at the moment. I grabbed my jean jacket from off my bed and head out the door to catch the bus.

The Boardwalk was packed, again. It was a little before 10 o'clock pm. The sun set around 8 o'clock. The Boardwalk was open till 11. So a good whole hour to see what he wanted. I headed straight for the merry-go-round passing _Fantasyworld _on my way toward it. Edgar was standing out front guarding the goods. Giving him my hardest glare, our eyes locked on each other's as I walked by. I was acting like a brat, but losing his and his brother's friendship still hurt. An upbeat tone could be heard from the old scale organ in the corner of the building the housed the Looff carousel. I sat down on one of the benches that surrounded the merry-go-round in a circle. A young mother with a sleeping newborn sat down next to me on my right. She waved to a 10-year-old boy with brown hair as he lifted himself up onto the seat of one the horses and she didn't stop waving until he waved back. Must have been her son.

And there we sat her humming with the music to her baby in her arms and me waiting for a guy who I really knew nothing about. I look over at the clock on the wall. The big hand was on the 12 and the little hand was on the 10. A couple of minutes later, a guy with long, wild blond hair and a swagger in his step sat down next to the mother with the child. They didn't look like they knew each other. The merry-go-round stop and people got off. Her ten-year-old came racing towards her, docking in between people, as she got up from the bench.

"Come on, Laddie, time to go home. It is way passed Lauren's and yours bed time" she said to the boy as she ruffled his hair. They made their way out of the building into the mass of people heading home. The Boardwalk crowd had gotten a lot small since I arrived.

I sat waiting more for him. He was a good 30 minsutes late now. Is he even going to show up?

"Who are you waiting for babe," I hear a smooth teasing voice say. I turn my head to the right to see that the guy with the wild bloud had moved over, closer towards me. I heard the chains on his right shoulder of his jacket jiggle as he moved closer. The pins on the left lapel of his jacket gleamed from the light of the merry-go-round. He wore a mess shirt under his slight leather jacket and white pants with leather knee boots.

"What," I asked not sure if he was speaking to me or not, meeting his dark blue eyes.

"Who are you waiting for," he asked again.

"Someone," I said with fake confidence as I glared at him.

"Hey, Dwayne, who do you think she's waiting for," He said looking up at someone behind me. I wiped my head around and saw a guy with dark hair leaning against the pillar behind me with his arms crossed his chest. He wore no shirt but a chucky necklace under his old leather jacket. I saw a long cat or dog tooth hang down from his right ear. Dwayne stayed silent watching us. Tension shot through my body.

"Maybe she's waiting for a boyfriend," I heard a voice to my left say. Another guy with blond hair said sitting down very close next to me on my left, causing me to scoot away from him and closer to the other blond guy. His hair was much curlier then the other blond guy's hair and he also was more boyish looking then the other guys. His jacket was a piece of art completely covered in bright patches. He wore leather fingerless gloves on his hands and a Cheshire cat gin on his lips. I became more tense.

"That's what I was thinking," the guy on my right said leaning back looking to the guy on my left. He then leaned in closer me, coming in close contact with my face. His fingers stealthily crept their way onto my shoulder. "So babe, are you waiting for your man?"

"Yes, I am. Now, get your arm off my shoulder," I haughtily snapped, pinching the skin of his forearm and removing his whole arm from my shoulder. I was lying through my teeth about the boyfriend part, but he didn't need to know that.

"That hurt girl," the blond on my right whined, rubbing his forearm to relive the pain. He then tried to slink his arm around my shoulder. I then slapped at it like it was a nasty bug. "Easy. Easy. We come in peace."

"Yeah right," I huffed.

"We just want to keep you company. That's all," the blond on my left said in a reassuring voice.

"Sure," I replied crossing my arms over my breasts.

"Seriously, we just want to sit with you till your date comes. He is going to be a little late," he said explaining the situation in a calming voice. The tension in my shoulders loosened a little. I still didn't like what was going on.

"How would you know that? You could be lying to me," I told him staring at him real hard.

"Don't we look familiar," The blond of my left asked. Yes, they did. But where I saw, them I don't know. Santa Carla was a small town. I could have seen them at one the movie theater or on Main Street or maybe the beach…The beach.

"You guys were there that night at the beach." I stated. I now remember running into the blond on my right as I ran away.

"Told ya, she'd remember us. Pay up, sucker," the blond on my right demanded to the blond on my left. He raised his arm over my head to grab the money the blond on my left had dug out from his right boot.

"We're close friends of David's. Your names Jamie, right," the blond on my left asked. I nodded my head yes. So these guys were friends of David's. "My name is Marko. That's Dwayne. And that's -."

"Thank you very much Marko. I can introduce myself. Hello Baby, nice to meet you. The name's Paul" Paul said cutting off Marko. He had grabbed my hand in his, about to kiss it, when Dwayne slapped him on the back of the head."Hey!"

"So, anyways, why were you running from those guys that night on the beach," Paul asked randomly breaking the silence that had fallen on us a couple of minutes ago.

"They were following me. I was alone. There were more of them then me," I explained bluntly. I didn't want to talk about that night, especially not with these guys. I just met them and I really didn't really know for sure they were David's friends.

"Did you know those guys," Marko asked almost cautiously.

"No, I did not. Never saw them in my life. Do you?" I asked sharply. My answer was followed with silence. "That answers my question. Here's another question, dose it even matter if I did know them? It was a random event."

"You think that night on the beach was random. That _those guys_ were following you randomly," asked Dwayne, for first time hearing his gruff voice. I turnaround on the bench and looked behind me at the silent giant.

"Yes, I do believe that," I said with force trying to reassure myself. Alarm bells went off silently in my head. What were they getting at? That night was all a random event. It had to be. Right?

"Are you sure," Dwayne asked staring me coldly in the eyes.

"Positive" I sipped the word out. Giving him my best death glare, but I felt like I was a mini-poodle taking pit-bull. I didn't stand a chance against him. I was not intimidating enough. I still tried to make him back down.

"Oh look, your prince charming doth approaches," Paul exclaimed catching my attention. I broke my silent war with Dwayne to see David getting off the Merry-go-round. He has been here the whole time, hasn't he? Hasn't He? That…that… that prick. I screamed in outrage in my head. I have been waiting for him for a little more than an hour. Keeping his ice eyes on me, he slowly made his way towards us, towards me. Paul got up, stretched and then two finger saluted us. "Catch you two love birds later."

"Bye-Bye. Have fun," Marko said as he jumped over the bench and followed Paul out. Dwayne just smiled brilliant white teeth and nodded his head towards David then retreated with the rest of them. I sat there on the bench with a deep scowl on my lips as he reached me. I was pissed at him. Really, really pissed at him. By that that all knowing smirk on his face, he know that I know he has been at the merry—go-round for as long I have. There was no one or nothing from telling him off right fucking now. I should just….

He leaned in, standing before me, his leather gloved hands rested on the bench on either side of me, trapping me in. He slowly, maybe a little too slowly, he lean down, leveling my face with his. My gaze flicker from his eyes to his lips then back to his eyes. Was he going to kiss me? Our noses brushed a little and I could feel my breathing was becoming shallow. I could feel my eyes drop a little and I tilted my head up to receive a kiss on my lips from him. Suddenly, he kissed me…

…on the cheek. He trailed three butterfly kisses from the corner of my mouth towards my ear.

"Sorry I'm late, Jamie," He whispered in my ear. He then abruptly pulled back and stood up straight. He removed his hands from the bench that were caging me in and stuffed them in the pockets of his trench coat. I sat there on the bench with my mouth gaping open. I closed it then opened it again. I was doing my best impression of a goldfish. All my anger for him had escaped me between the time he leaned down over and when he kiss me. It sort of made me sad he didn't do more.

"What was that, payback," I asked finally coming down from the shock.

"You could say that," David replied simply as he rocked backward on his feet with a well satisfied smile on his lips. I was not disappointed at that smile.


End file.
